Liam Barr

A hazard appears on the road.
We yank the wheel to miss it and drift into the next lane.

Fear does not require an imaginary danger.
Sometimes the road really is blocked.
Our first escape can become the fastest thing moving.

Fear arrived uninvited.
The turn still belonged to us.

What frightened us may never hurt us.
But our swerve could hurt someone else.

I had pictured the date so often it became its own constellation.
Every point had a place.
Every line was already joined.

Then today looked different.
One point sat beyond the line I had drawn.
For a moment I thought the stars had missed.

I kept watching.

Then the pattern widened.
The misplaced point found its line.
Everything fell into place.

What seemed late for the beginning was right for everything after it.

Nothing had fallen out of place.
The sky was simply larger than my drawing.

We want the next chapter explained before we leave this one.
Knowing where it leads would make the turn feel safer.

That sounds reasonable until we ask how a page becomes known.
It cannot show us what it holds while we leave it unturned.

Fear cannot read ahead for us.
It can only recognise the unfamiliar.

A new chapter can feel unknown and scary and daunting.
That does not make it the wrong page to turn.